Weary Mother
by cocoalover1956
Summary: Kinkmeme: Robb is Brandon's son, and Cat is pregnant with him when she marries Ned. Does having a bastard of her own change her behavior towards Jon?


Her father didn't know until the morning of the wedding, when Catelyn could no longer keep the truth from him any longer, by then he looked ready to tear out his own hair. She was suppose to be the responsible one, his right hand until Edmure came of age, and she should have known better than to give herself up to any man before marriage, even her betrothed. Lysa in turn confesses to her own scandalous activities - with _Petyr_ of all boys - and Catelyn wishes to sink below the Red Fork never to rise. How could both of Hoster Tully's daughters proven so reckless and wanton?

"You don't have to take moon tea." Father says to her quietly. Lysa shrieks in indignation, her eyes filling with tears, and flees.

"Father, what have you done to Lysa?"

He raises a hand signaling her to stop, his face as red as his hair, "You will speak only when spoken to!"

Catelyn shrinks. She could not presume that she would be treated with the gentleness and trust she had always known, not when she had broken that trust and dishonored her family so terribly.

Hoster continues, "You are not far along, only a few weeks?" She nods. "Then there its a simple remedy: tell Lord Eddard that the child is his. If the child does not resemble you, he will still have the appearance of a Stark."

Catelyn's mouth becomes as dry as the Dornish sands, but she nods. Her father slumbs in his seat and covers his face with his hands; and only know does Catelyn see the grey hairs against the red. Rebellious children being their parents to an early grave, her septa used to say.

* * *

The wedding she had been dreaming of since she was twelve never happens. She is not Brandon's bride, but his brother's, the maiden cloak feels like a lie, and the war looms over everyone's heads like a coming storm. Lysa is wed to Jon Arynn the same day, a commitment she was very unhappy to make because her new husband is older than their father. The northmen, valemen, and rivermen feast and drink and sing together, oblivious to the secrets being kept from them by their hosts.

Catelyn spends a great deal of time looking at her husband and resisting the urge to cradle her belly. Lord Eddard is not as tall as his brother was, nor as handsome and well-spoken. Her life would be so much better if Brandon had been to one to put the direwolf cloak on her shoulders. They are unkind, unfair thoughts, especially from such a deceitful woman as herself, but they keep coming all throughout the night.

The bedding ceremony goes by in a blur, though she remembers the feeling of stares and the sound of japes. She is thrown into a room alone with Lord Eddard, both of them naked. It is awkward in a way it never had been with Brandon.

"I suppose now we do our duty." Lord Eddard approaches her.

"I can't." Catelyn cries. Seeing the stunned look on his face, she scrambles for an explanation but all that comes to mind is the truth, "Brandon and I...I'm pregnant... with your nephew or niece." Fool! She screams to herself. He doesn't have to know; her father had been right but the truth falls from her lips like a slippery fish. Her body feels bloated and she succumbs to the irresistible urge to weep.

Lord Eddard puts on his robe. Catelyn half expects him to throw her from the room exposing her shame, but instead he covers her as well and cleans away her tears with a handkerchief. "My lady..." He is at a loss for words, but the softness in his eyes shows his meaning well enough. For the first time, Catelyn's heart warms for him.

* * *

Someone starts rumors the next morning, someone with very good hearing, and Catelyn denies nothing.

* * *

Ned, as her husband likes to be called, writes to her frequently, asking after her health and bringing news from the war-front. He speaks highly of his friend Robert Baratheon and expresses a desire to see her again. Hoster Tully wishes for them to meet again so Winterfell does not slip into Benjen Stark's hands should his goodson fall in battle.

In the meantime, Catelyn's pregnancy continues. Edmure watches in wonder as her belly swells while Lysa looks on with envy in her tear filled eyes.

"It's not fair." She laments one day while they are doing needlework. "You did the same thing I did, so why is it that you get to keep your baby but I don't?"

The answer should be obvious, but somehow it eludes Catelyn. "You have your reputation. As far as anyone else knows, I'm the soiled daughter, not you."

"I'd rather have a baby." Lysa complains.

"And you will someday," Catelyn replies, her patience already wearing thin, "a trueborn son of House Arynn. Until then people will comfort you for the shame of having a slut for a sister. How fortunate for you, getting everything you want. "

Lysa looks wounded, "You're the one who got everything she wanted and everyone liked you better than me."

"Well now our positions are reversed, are they not?" Catelyn shuts her mouth from fear she will say something cruel. Lysa has always been sensitive. "It'll all be alright in the end, just wait a bit longer." She isn't sure if she is speaking to Lysa or herself.

* * *

The morning before her child is born, Catelyn receives a letter from Ned confirming that if she had a boy they would name him Robb and if she had a girl they would name her Minisa. Robb Rivers, Minisa Rivers. Hopefully her father would not be too upset about having to raise the child in Riverrun and our might do Edmure good to have a small child to look after like a big brother.

Robb comes into the world screaming and red-faced. With his auburn hair and bright blue eyes, he resembled her so much and not his father at all. Still, despite all the rumors, no one outside the family knew with certainty that Brandon was the child's father. She could keep it that way if she chose to. She cradles the babe close as he nurses, almost forgetting that he is illegitimate, that she will have to leave him behind when her husband returns from war. Almost.

Months pass and Ned's letters become fewer and further between. A million different stories float around the Riverlands; about how Robert Baratheon vanquished Prince Rhaegar; how Jaime Lannister soiled his white cloak by murdering the king; poor Princess Elia and her butchered babes. Though she knows she was safe, Catelyn worries constantly that someone might hurt Robb. If I must, she thinks to herself, I will beg Ned to accept my child in Winterfell, at least until he is old enough to squire for Father or Uncle Brynden.

In the end, the begging is not necessary. Ned sends a letter inviting her to bring Robb north with her. He writes that he is already on his way home and will be waiting for them. Catelyn kisses the letter and thanks the Mother Above for giving her such a kind husband.

* * *

Catelyn bids farewell to her family, to Riverrun. With Robb wrapped safely in her arms, she rides a liter to Winterfell with an escort of twenty armed men, servants, and the maester who had helped her during her son's birth, a little grey man named Luwin. The going is long and strenuous, but Catelyn reaches Winterfell at last, a grey crown on a hill in the center of the North.

Her reception is as cold as the wind messing up her hair. Hard, scornful, judging glares meet her at the gates. A sudden icy fear seizes Catelyn. They will never accept me, she silently laments, a foreign woman who dishonored their lord by being her bastard to be raised alongside their trueborn children. If they knew he was Brandon's son, would the northerners love him more or less? I should not have brought Robb; I should have left him with my father, where he would have loved by more than just his mother.

A gangly boy no older than sixteen runs up to her add she enters the Great Keep. "You must be Catelyn," he says with an open, innocent smile, "My name is Benjen, your goodbrother. It's wonderful to have you here."

Catelyn could almost kiss him, he is so sweet. "It's wonderful to meet you as well Benjen."

He peers at the bundle in her arms, "That's him, my nephew?"

So Ned told his brother. Who else knew? "Yes, his name is Robb. Would you like to hold him?"

Benjen is awkward holding the babe, but Catelyn shows him how to do it right. Footsteps interrupt the lesson.

"Catelyn," Ned appears in the hallway, looking both excited and nervous. It almost makes her want to laugh. "I came as soon as I heard you were here." He looks at Benjen holding Robb and smiles. "May I?" Catelyn nods and Benjen hands him the babe. Before Catelyn can show him the correct way to hold a babe, she sees that her husband already knows, as if he had held a child recently. He returns Robb and says, "Let me show you to the nursery."

The nursery is close to the rooms Ned gave her as Lady of Winterfell so she will always be near her son. As they step inside, a short, dark woman rises to show respect to her betters. "M'lord, m'lady." She murmurs respectfully. A babe whimpers in her arms, trying to turn his head to see what had interrupted his feeding.

"Catelyn, this is my son, Jon Snow."

* * *

The boys fall in love in an instant, her bastard and her husband's. Though they are cousins, Catelyn could already see that they will be more like brothers. She watches them in their cribs, trying to ignore the stuttering of her heart whenever she looked at Jon Snow. He is all Stark, dark haired and grey-eyed with Ned's face. Neither child would truly be accepted, but Jon, not Robb, would be loved by the North.

Ned finds her still in the nursery holding Robb, "My lady, I apologize for dishonoring you."

"It was I who wronged you first, my lord." She replies, "Now we stand on equal ground. Do you plan to raise them together?" A small foolish part of her hopes, for just a second, that he might send his son away, but why do that and allow her son to remain? Jon will stay in the North; and if Ned would be a father to her son, it would only be fair if her to be a mother to his. She considers how she feels about Jon and wonders if her husband feels the same about Robb.

"Indeed. I pray they will be like brothers." Ned says.

"As do I my lord. If I may ask, who is Jon's mother?"

Ned becomes uncomfortably. Gruffly, he responds, "You may not. I do not wish to speak of her."

Catelyn bristles, because Ned had always been so honest and generous, but she doesn't question it. He was entitled to his privacy, but the mystery of Jon Snow's mother weighs heavily on her mind.

* * *

In time, Catelyn and Ned consummate their marriage and their fondness for each other grows into something more. She is still the laughingstock of the North, but Catelyn builds an armory of courtesy and confidence to guard her heart. Though she is an outsider, she is the Lady of Winterfell.

Robb and Jon do not yet understand their station, but for now all they know is that Catelyn is their mother and Ned is their father (although that is not fully true). Just as Catelyn feared, Jon receives preferential treatment from the people while Robb is at best an afterthought, at worse insult to everyone around him. She does her best to shield him from harsh words, but he will be hearing them all his life.

Three years after first arriving in Winterfell, Catelyn gives birth to a daughter, Sansa. She knows she will need a trueborn son to at last remove the stain of her dishonor, but Catelyn spends more time dwelling on Sansa's dark hair and a pair of grey eyes settled in a Tully face. Her second daughter enters the world while Ned fights in the Iron Islands and Catelyn spends the entire pregnancy worried that if the child looks like her, no one will believe she had been faithful. Her fear abates at the sight of Arya's Stark face, Stark coloring, and Stark temper. Bran, the first trueborn son between them, is greeted with deafening celebration from the entire North. His coloring is Catelyn's, auburn hair and blue eyes, but he bears a striking resemblance to his father. The same could said of Rickon, his little brother, the wild child that stole all their hearts.

Its not a perfect family, but its more than enough for Catelyn.


End file.
